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66 Bryn Mawr Stories
That he had thought well of it she could not doubt,
but she wanted to know what she had said. Long
after she had gone to her room that night she had
sat thinking. The poetry of college spirit! What
had she said about it P Perhaps she had said some-
thing absurd, had made her subject ridiculous. lt
hardly seemed so from what she had heard. And
yet,-could she think that the inspiration of that
moment of discovery had lasted through an hour of
unconsciousness? How much more probable that
the shadowy something she had tried to define had
been so real to the memory or the imagination of
her hearers that the mere mention of it had for them
an instant fascination.
And now this morning, finding herself the first
downstairs, she had picked up the paper. She
would find out at last. A few moments ago she
had finished reading, and throwing the paper aside
with the impatience of disappointment, had stepped
out on to the porch. In those five minutes she had
come to view the whole thing with a lively enjoy-
merit.
There was a column about it in the paper, but
no outline, nothing but praise and the hope that she
would make her speech fully effective by publish-
ing it. Was there perhaps a touch of malice in
that suggestion? Had the reporter grasped more